Her First Mistake Carey Baldwin (ereader with dictionary TXT) 📖

“Sorry, but, no.”

“We’re trying to get the word out.” She held his gaze, hoping to transmit the urgency she felt.

Unfazed, he shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s a hard no. Someone might get the idea one of our customers had something to do with her disappearance. Don’t ask me again.” His voice started out neutral, but ended on a note of steel. Raising his hand high, he opened and closed his fist twice.

A secret signal?

“Will you call me if you do see her?”

“Fancy, if I bump into a missing person, it’s the cops I’ll be calling.”

Galen materialized at Mia’s side.

Figuring she was about to get bounced, she dodged his reach, turned and made a break for it, praying he’d allow her to leave under her own power. She wove her way through the gauntlet of customers, and made it about halfway to the back door before someone tapped her on the shoulder, freezing her in place.

“Good luck with the job, sweetie,” a female voice purred.

Mia whirled.

That dancer, the one who’d winked at her earlier, turned out to be the owner of the sultry voice. She’d thrown a gauzy wrap, which did little to conceal her nudity, over her shoulders. With nowhere safe to fix her gaze, Mia decided to study the floor.

“I said good luck with the job!” Then, in a low, low whisper, the dancer added, “I saw her.”

Mia jerked up her head. “Celeste Cooper? Where?”

The dancer adjusted her G-string, making a show of angling her body away from Mia, as if no longer addressing her, but continued whispering. “At the club. But you didn’t hear it from me, okay?”

Mia’s gaze darted around until she spotted Galen and the manager engaged in deep conversation. “Hear what? No idea what you mean.”

“Perfect. Now get out of here.”

Not yet. No freakin’ way. “I’ll give you my number so we can talk later.”

“No. That’s all I know. Just go.”

Mia peeked around again, and this time found Galen giving her the eye. Her brain told her to head for the door, but her feet remained stubbornly rooted. “Maybe we can meet up later. After your shift?”

“You gotta go now.”

“First, tell me your name, then I’ll leave.”

“Shoshanna.”

As the dancer dove into the crowd, Mia’s pulse started racing.

Shoshanna knew something.

Struggling to regain her composure, Mia checked on Galen again. He was occupied, breaking up a row between two gentlemen. With the bouncer busy, it seemed like the right time to make her getaway. But the adrenaline rush that, up until now, had been keeping her afloat, abruptly wore off. Her muscles wilted, making it difficult to push her way through a crowd of stirred up men and past a long hallway lined with private chambers.

What went on behind those curtains?

She felt a magnetic pull in her solar plexus. Perspiration beaded between her breasts. Pausing, she closed her eyes, imagining ordinary people doing exotic things in those dark spaces. Then a hand closed over her mouth, and simultaneously, a powerful arm clamped her waist.

Her eyes flew open.

Unable to scream, she kicked and clawed at her captor’s arms.

Uttering a soft curse, he hoisted her off the floor and hauled her into a pitch-black chamber.

Seven

Mia sucked air through her nose, drawing in a burst of oxygen that revved her system like a shot of epinephrine. Her muscles jerked; her body steeled, preparing her for the fight of her life. Twisting, she wrenched one arm free, grabbed the hand that covered her mouth and bit down.

“What the hell!” To her utter amazement the man released her.

She heard a click and a lamp switched on, flooding the darkened space with eerie blue light. Panting, heart pounding, she screwed her fists into wrecking balls ready to smash her attacker in the face. She took him in, and then gasped.

Her racing mind screeched to a halt. “Isaiah?”

“You? You bit me!” He stumbled back. “What the hell are you doing in my sister’s dress?”

She could feel the blood rising to her face, sweat oozing around her hairline, her pulse beating furiously in her neck. Keeping her fists up, she pulled in another breath.

Then, suddenly, his shoulders dropped, making him seem a lot less menacing.

She knew she should run, get away from him as fast as she could, but this was Isaiah, Celeste’s brother, and her heart would not allow her to turn away. She dropped her fists, trying to think rationally. “You grabbed me. You’re the one who needs to explain yourself.” Without warning, her legs went limp, and she collapsed onto a padded bench. “But do it from over there.”

“I thought you were her.” He pushed a hand through disheveled hair. His tailored shirt had come untucked. A dark streak of dirt or maybe blood smeared a ruddy cheek.

“Her who? What could you possibly be thinking that would make it okay to drag me in here like that? You must’ve known how terrifying that would be for me—for anyone.”

“I-I… When I saw you standing there, something seemed so familiar. From the back, I thought you were Celeste. That looks like the dress she was wearing the last time…” His voice trailed off.

It was true she and Celeste were about the same size and build, their hair similarly cut, though hers was mousy brown and Celeste’s was auburn and somewhat longer. But the club was dimly lit, and Isaiah was probably drunk. He might be telling the truth. “But why grab her—I mean why grab me?”

“I didn’t want her to get away.”

Mia’s heart rate was slowing down, but her defenses remained on high alert. “Why would Celeste run from her own brother?”

“You’re right. She wouldn’t. I just acted on impulse. I wanted to get Celeste to safety.”

An image of Celeste cowering in the corner of a dirty cellar, a shackle cutting into a bloodied ankle flashed into Mia’s head. She shivered. This creepy room with its three black walls and curtained doorway, the only light emanating from a skeletal lamp with a torn indigo scarf